


A Bit of Nostalgia

by manaisbasterd



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Charles as a seven year old boy, Comedy, Funny, Gen, M/M, Multi, bbcc, chess is overrated, i love you man
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-09-21
Updated: 2011-10-06
Packaged: 2017-10-23 22:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/255730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manaisbasterd/pseuds/manaisbasterd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little bit of trauma can lead to a bit of whimsy. Charles minds reverts to a state without current events weighing it down. He becomes a child. Response to kinkmeme request.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tick of the Clock

**Author's Note:**

> My first real multichapter fic for this fandom without a cowriter. It's a response to a kinkmeme that sort of goes like "Charles goes into shock when he feels the coin penetrate Shaw's (his) brain. In order to protect itself, his mind regresses to a point where it knows nothing of pain; only warmth, happiness and love. In essence, Charles wakes up in the middle of Cuba as a child." There is more too it, but I tried to keep it short and sweet.
> 
> All of the editing took place with the soundtrack of Drive. Considering I tried to keep the atmosphere light.
> 
> I hope people like it, and I hope the show it with reviews. I'll try to update as much as possible.

Chapter One: Tick of a Clock

Seeing through sweat that had already soaked his scalp, Charles knew that nobody was going to hear was a nobody in the current situation. A nonmuntant, noncombatant. As well as Sean, Alex, Hank, and yes, even Raven. All of them projected as faceless, bodies with just stray thoughts adding to the constant white noise pressing on Charles mind. Shaw's white noise a constant and almost maddening presence. "Erik, don't do this."

It's just so very hot, and Charles is starting to really feel the accumulated humidity in the crashed jet as he realizes that this is not going as he had planned, or hoped, or secretly sometimes prayed. Fingers start digging into his scalp in a last ditch effort to amplify his voice, and he could stop Erik, but stopping him meant he would have to give up Shaw. Giving up the mad man was not an option. "Please don't."

And than finally a response. "It's not that I don't trust, it's just, well-"

The other mind disappears. Now the only one Charles can watch through is lashing out in vain attempts to regain control. Through Shaw's eyes he sees a man in a metal helmet with a smile that showed a few to many teeth, and he can feel how Shaw's mind sends signals for his hands to shake nervously and his eyes to dilate in fright. Shaw is a man now suddenly afraid of his own dog, and Charles is a man afraid of his closest friend.

A coin is produced from Erik's pocket, and Charles knows now that he failed has a mentor, a savior, and a friend. "Goddamnit." His free hand automatically latched the sides of the jet, and his heart starts beating in tune with Shaw's rabbit pace.

"One." Shaw knows it over. Charles has no clue how this is going to end. Death for Shaw, but for him?

"Two." Quacking knees, and he's scared. But he must hold Shaw, even if it means having to see Erik revel in the destruction of another's life. It's not like he can't sympathize, it's just-

"Three."

The pain wasn't some surreal and distant red light like he had hoped, no, it was something unbearable. Charles Xavier knew now that he had never experienced pain until this moment, true burning and aching and tearing pain. Shaw died almost instantly, but the coin still dragged through his brain, still dragging through Charles'. Pain, betrayal, disappointment, and, lost. All the things that made Charles were lost. Overwhelming fear almost as powerful as the pain came to surface on his plane of thought, and soon found himself retreating the other direction. Somewhere far less dense, with less noise and interference. The closer he got the scent of cut grass and something between happiness and melancholy overwhelmed him. There was light, he reached for it.

 

 

 

The sudden collapse of Charles was almost a relief for Moria. Maneuvering through and over debris, she let her training speech if itself. Before being promoted to her current position as a CIA agent, she had been a police detective, and before that an officer on a beat who had to manipulate many men into a seizure safe position. "Oh, god Charles," She refused to hear her own panic stricken voice, and let her calm hands move her body just enough to be clear of any sharp objects. Checking his pulse, she than placed a hand on his forehead. "You really need to wake up."

Was slapping someone awake medically advisable? "The sun is up, and evil people with superpowers are trying to kill us, and dear god, Erik just floated Shaw's body out of the sub. Please, wake up."

Telepaths probably can't hear in there sleep like anybody else, Moria reasoned. She was going to have to ask Erik for help, and she knew how he felt about her. And now with that helmet, and a dead body, he was positively terrifying.

The sound of flesh against flesh. A slap.

"Ouuuu-ch. That really hurt." Charles was rubbing his cheek, curling completely into the fetal position. "That wasn't very nice, ya know?"

"Well, we have no time for nice. Erik just floated out of Shaw's sub looking like some sort of Jesus reactor, the Soviets as well as our boys have all there guns out there looking as if they are pointing at us, and nobody will answer any distress calls. Things have gone to shit, and we need you." Looking at Moria finally, Charles looks absolutely puzzled.

"Who are you, Miss? And what sort of game is this?"

Erik looks like a conqueror of cities. He has crucified the king and thrown him at his feet, and now looks upon his newly claimed land and the serfs that are bound to him. A red devil, a Spanish knight, and a venomous fairy are now his, no alliances need to be questioned. Their faces already show complete devotion. But something is missing from his playing board. He can see the remaining yellow suited mutants looking lost out of the corner of his eye, but no CIA agent in cite. No Charles.

"Where is he?" Firm and infallible. That's what people need to see. "Raven, where is your brother?"

She looks startled, as if she hasn't thought of her dear brother and guardian up until now. When Hank, Alex, and Sean confirm they are also for a loss on the whereabouts of their leader, Raven goes into action. Capable. Erik likes that about her. "No, I'll go look in the jet. Hank stay here though, watch him." Apparently, he is no longer trusted.

"No, I will come with you."

"Even better." Raven mutters as she tries to run through the sand, gives up, and follows Erik's trot yelling over her shoulder. "Boys, make sure they don't try anything funny while we are gone." Alex gives a nod for all of them. Erik is impressed by their new found discipline in battle.

Before they can reach the entrance to the jet, not a door but more like a tore off engine make a gaping whole, Moria comes stumbling out looking a shell-shocked pulling along Charles by clenched hands. "Raven," she doesn't look at Erik, who takes that as submissive behavior. "There is something queer going on."

Charles hasn't look up from his shoes.

"Are you okay?" Raven starts to reach out towards Charles, who than steps behind Moria still not meeting Raven's eye.

"Like I was saying something queer. He had passed out, and woke up like this." She pauses for a deep breath. "Keeps insisting he doesn't know me, or where we are, or the date, or even you, Raven."

Shock, and Raven can't even gasp. "The worst part is, though, I think he thinks he's seven."

Moria stops talking, and her drama is putting Erik on edge. "Seven, what?"

"Seven years old."

"No, really. Seven what?" Erik shook his head, the weight of the helmet straining the tendons in his neck. They reminded Raven of a rope twisted too tight.

With a strange pouty look, Charles shook his head, and held up fingers to represent seven. "I am seven years old. I swear."

Swearing made Erik cringe, especially when it just happened to indicate mental illness. Apparently it also made Moria and Raven cringe as well. The declaration was followed by a long moment of silence broken only when his sister could organize her thoughts. "Charles, baby, do you know who I am?"

A head shake, no.

Devastated, Raven hid it well. She was a master of disguise. "What's the last thing you do remember?" His forehead wrinkled, and his lips scrunched. Whatever, he was trying to process was distressful. "Nevermind, let's just take a few seconds to-"

"Raven!" Hank was screaming from across the beach, his once nasally voice now rough and a few octaves lower. "We need to get out of here!"

Following the direction of where his furry, finger pointed, through the haze of the Cuban heat, she saw the ships sitting ontop of the water closer to the beach than before. In firing distance. "Erik."

"On it." He closed his eyes.

Moria started to look panicked, and was visibly tightening her grip on Charles hand. "They can't be. They wouldn't."

"Of course they would. They are just humans after all." Erik's hands rouse, and he started to walk back towards the shore. Raven and Moria followed. "They wouldn't know the difference between there saviors or their enemies. And I will not be a martyr."

"Erik, if it comes to it. Don't." Raven looked at Charles, who was completely engrossed with his shoes. "He wouldn't want you to."

Before Erik could retort, the rumple of gun shots deafened their ears and a large, almost ridiculous variety of arsenal started to blot out the blue sky. Shock hit Raven when she would see the paint on the tips of the missiles, before they just stopped. Suspended over them with just a flick of Erik's wrist. "Foolish humans."

"Erik, don't." This time it was Moria trying to reason. "They are just confused, and afraid. If we explain it to them-"

"Can't reason with men with guns. Humans have no reason." Erik reached an arm out, almost dramatically. The misses turned, and followed the direction of his hand."They deserve to die."

"Die?" A small voice interrupted them. "Nobody deserves to die."

Erik turned, his concentration broken. A few stray missiles blowing apart in the air. His eyes meet steely blue ones. "Some people do."

Charles shook his head, and his fists were clenched at his side. "If you do, I'll have to tell on you."

More missiles were lost midair. "Tell on me?"

"You're mum will tell you the same thing." Erik couldn't help but to let out a small chuckle.

"My mum?" His arm was lowering without him even noticing.

"And than you'll be in a whole bunch of trouble." Charles face was dead serious as his eyebrows rose and his eyes widened, showing that he had knowledge on what it was like to be scolded by your mother. "And that would be reeaaaal bad."

Erik's hand dropped to cover his mouth. Only debris hit the ships.

"Oh," Moira pulled Charles behind her completely unsure on the definite outcome. "Now Erik, let's think of this in a rational manner."

"Let go of him." Only until Raven gave a nod of approval did Moria move aside. Moving forward, Erik held his breath trying to keep his laughter down as he placed a hand on Charles shoulder. "Are you there, my friend?"

 

 

The devil won by Erik turned out to be the most useful. And as he sat in front of the fire he felt like he should pat his back or something else figurative and congratulatory. Except a glass of scotch or a expensive cigar wouldn't solve there current problem. A strange problem, and possibly life changing.

 

 

"Charles, would you like some more ice cream?" Raven pried the icebox open before he even nodded his head. Two days after the beach, and Raven was sure if his brother was insane. One day after disbelieve set it, and she was hoping for him to say, "gotcha ya, wasn't I hilarious for feigning mental illness during a potentially catastrophic human even." She handed him the bowl. "Well, of course you do."

"Thank you," Charles said severely. Always a polite kid. Then messily brought the spoon that his hand fisted around to his wide open face. Raven shook her head, before turning to the sink that reflected her blue form. "Have I done something wrong?"

She felt ridged when she turned to answer, "no, of course not."

"Than why is everyone not wanna be around me?" If this was Charles, well, the Charles of now, she would say 'what, can't read minds?'. Actually, she was unsure if in this state that was possible.

"Well, it's cause they are all busy." True, to some degree. Hank was busy trying to decipher brain scans, Sean was busy trying to find drugs to sedate current events, Alex had been around but unsure of how to talk to children, and well, Erik, was busy avoiding the situation. Raven sat down next to him at the dinning table. "We have had a long week."

"Oh," Charles nodded, but then pouted. "Can we play later, or are you going to be busy?"

It broke her heart. "Of course not. We can go outside, and play games."

She brushed back a few toughs of hair that seemed to never behave behind her brother's ear. "Don't worry. Will figure this out."

Before the now aggressive CIA knows of their weak mental wall. "I promise."

Before Erik decides that he really is the prince of all things soft and pseudo-human, as well, as hard and metal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took forever!

Chapter Two

The devil won by Erik turned out to be the most useful. And as he sat in front of the fire he felt like he should pat his back or something else figurative and congratulatory.

 

Except a glass of scotch or a expensive cigar wouldn't solve there current problem. A strange problem, and possibly life changing."Charles, would you like some more ice cream?" Raven pried the icebox open before he even nodded his head. Two days after the beach, and Raven was sure if his brother was insane. One day after disbelieve set it, and she was hoping for him to say, "gotcha ya, wasn't I hilarious for feigning mental illness during a potentially catastrophic human even." She handed him the bowl. "Well, of course you do."

"Thank you," Charles said severely. Always a polite kid. Then messily brought the spoon that his hand fisted around to his wide openface. Raven shook her head, before turning to the sink that reflected her blue form. "Have I done something wrong?"

She felt ridged when she turned to answer, "no, of course not."

"Than why is everyone not wanna be around me?" If this was Charles, well, the Charles of now, she would say 'what, can't read minds?'. Actually, she was unsure if in this state that was possible.

"Well, it's cause they are all busy." True, to some degree. Hank was busy trying to decipher brain scans, Sean was busy trying to find drugs to sedate current events, Alex had been around but unsure of how to talk to children, and well, Erik, was busy avoiding the situation. Raven sat down next to him at the dinning table. "We have had a long week."

"Oh," Charles nodded, but then pouted. "Can we play later, or are you going to be busy?"

It broke her heart. "Of course not. We can go outside, and play games."

She brushed back a few toughs of hair that seemed to never behave behind her brother's ear. "Don't worry. Will figure this out."

Before the now aggressive CIA knows of their weak mental wall. "I promise."

Before Erik decides that he really is the prince of all things soft and pseudo-human, as well, as hard and metal.

 

The Professor was under the impression that they were some strange, and sort of funky looking, family that he just couldn't remember. And that he was eight. Was this funny or tragic, Sean couldn't decide.

"So, Prof-Charles, would you like to throw some ball?" Charles light up. Sean felt bad. It was sort of his fault. The two days after the beach, the situation had been a bit freaky, and a little awkward. But really, it wasn't Charles fault that all of a sudden he had some sort of strange mental relapse. Probably some telepath thing, but couldn't be sure. Sean wasn't too familiar with these things.

He handed him a baseball glove. Uncertainty, followed by Charles shrugging, and the glove was now a mystery. Sean never thought that he would know how awkward showing a thirtyish man who believed he was eight how to put on a baseball glove. Now he was a man of knowledge. "It's like this. Ah, yeah. You got it now. Run over there." Charles ran wobbly, and unrestrained about twenty feet away. "Okay, now to the wild part. You gotta catch it." Tossing it up, Sean watched as Charles positioned himself under he ball. "You gotta be good at this if you Brit really wanna be full blooded American." A cracking noise. The ball had hit Charles smack on the forehead.

Sean ran through the lawn shouting, "Big boys don't cry."

 

Sometimes Charles is frightened of the silent figure in the library. Maybe is was the way that the man insisted on staring, or more likely that whenever Charles would try to sneak around him to get to the fiction section big hands would handle and adjust his face until once again all Charles could see were raised eyebrows, and light wrinkles.

"Why don't you come over here." Charles is caught. Not a practically rebellious child-man, when the phantom of the library summons he answers the call. Sitting silently at the feet of the wooden table, he dared not look up at the stone face that was staring so harshly. "Do you not remember me at all?"

Charles shakes his head. No. It's no lie. Would a boy not remember the boogie man under the bed? Especially now when the boogie man had a real name, and claimed to be your bestest friend in the entire world.

"Can you not speak?" Charles shakes his head no. "Say it."

The man's breath smelt like alcohol. Charles is very familiar with that scent. It reminds him of his mommie. Raven tells him his mommie is no longer there. He hears Raven say that she's dead in that voice that does not come from her mouth. That voice is something he hears from everyone, and they all want to know about it. Charles plays dumb, scared that they are scared.

"Please just answer me." It's not a sob. Men don't cry, cause Charles knows that big boys don't cry. "Just talk, Charles."

So Charles tells him everything is going to be okay, cause that's what the man is begging him to say in that whisper so quiet only he can hear. Promises made, the man seems worse off. "Would you like to play checkers?"

A grin that seems off, "Do you know how to play chess?"

"No. It's the one with the knights and queens and castles, right?"

"And kings, bishops, and soldiers." Erik stands up and takes the board already waiting for players off the shelf. "I'll teach you. I have a feeling you'll be good."

Charles nod. "Me too. My mom says I'm good at games."

"Don't get cocky now." A real smile, and Charles knows that the monster is really a shark king just waiting for someone to ask him to play a game.

 

As a genius, Hank knows a lot of things. Not just remember, but can manipulate all sort of information. Brain-scans tell him nothing. An ultrasound just ends up annoying to his newly developed animal ears, and end up turning up normal. As a scientist, yes, he know being obtuse for getting frustrated. Being wrong just gets him closer to being right. But as a doctor it's hard. As a friend, it's almost disturbing.

"There's no physical cause that I have yet to detect." Breaking it to Raven was hard, she cried. Breaking it to Erik was frightening, he just frowned. "It seems to be a psychological reaction due to trauma, maybe even something to do with his mutation. If we could somehow find some sort of psychologist, maybe, but without someone to wipe the mind afterwards-"

"So, he snapped?" The transformation had left Hank's tongue unfortunately like sandpaper, but his speech seemed intact to him.

"Well, yes, in more or less words." Hank doesn't like Erik. Violence, rage, aggression, and action in general aren't his thing being the passive, gentlemen beast. Hank respects Erik. He sees sharp eyes that seem something like intelligence. An intelligence he doesn't quite understand. One gained through actions, not words. But right now, none of that was present. Just a dull look of a shock that kills thoughts. "Look Erik, we can't handle this. We need to get help. Moria knows some people who can keep-"

"No, humans." It's weak. No conviction. "Maybe, Beast, if you talk to him you could-"

"I know nothing of the mind, Erik. It's more complicated than just talking him out of it. There could be trigger words, or certain images that could make him withdraw. His mutation could of created layers of mental blokes. I'm sorry, Erik. But if you can't get him real help, then all we have is time and patience."

 

Alik is a very patient person. A few months in solitary confinement, and years in and out of the system does that to a person. But being told that he was going to have to assist the Prof with all the little necessities of life that a seven year old can't perform without supervision was crossing the line.

"It's just for a few days," Raven says. "Just until we can sort things out with Moria. And well, Beast is busy in the lab, and Sean iswell-" a hamster killer and a dope fiend. "And Erik does not want to ask Angel, or any of them back into the house. I can't take him myself."

He agrees, only cause he knows how shitty Raven must feel not being able to be there for Charles.

"Alik?" Charles says for the tenth time. "Alik?"

"What the hell you want?"

It comes out harsh, but Charles doesn't seem to notice. The Prof is still the Prof, even if he's a twenty year younger version. "Uh, could you please read this to me?"

The book he hands over is thick, and the title is almost unbearably dole and British. "Can't you read yourself?"

Charles nods. All his gestures are childish now, and sometimes Alik has to stop himself from laughing at the man a little taller than himself. "Since I was-" Not quite counting on his fingers, he pauses to calculate the only seven years apparent to his mind. "Four."

"Than why do I have to read it?"

Charles ears redden, and frowns. Embarrassing him, Alik feels a little guilty. "I like it when I can hear it."

"Oh."

He whispers, "So I can tell the difference between these-" Charles points to his temple. "And those."

Bathtime is a totally surreal experience. Especially when Charles fights him the first time, swearing he didn't need one, and that he'd take on tomorrow. Reminding a almost thirty year old to brush his teeth, or to eat dinner before ice cream, or to wash his hands, or that is was okay to sometimes read Alik's thoughts instead of listen to what he was saying, was becoming routine.

Sometimes Beast helped. At first Alik was mad that Raven hadn't had asked him instead. Beast seemed so much more capable at this sort of thing. Or at least more sensitive, considering lanky, awkward Hank was somewhere in that blue.

Than came the moment where Beast of infinitely embarrassed by Charles wondering why he all of sudden had grown man parts, instead of boys. An hour of a very scientific explanation of puberty was brought on, and ended with a Charles more confused than before.

Because Beast was still Hank, Raven had asked him.

 

Alik just thanked god that at least Charles hadn't reverted into some pre-potty trained remnant of himself.

Erik wonders why he can't comprehend Raven's ease at handle this situation. Maturity must come and go. It took along time for him to get a grip. Maybe it's just different for him, as he see Charles in a way different light than in the brotherly way Raven handles him.

"I'm happy he doesn't remember me." Raven says.

Erik agrees, but stays unemotional behind the wheel. "Why?"

"I'm his little sister. It's selfish but I wouldn't want to change that." She's not blue right now, and her blonde hair reflects the sun. Than she asks for approval, "ya know?"

"I can understand." Erik knows. Charles seeing him not as Erik, killed him. It felt as if the Erik Charles could no longer knew, was lost. The Erik that sometimes lay besides him at night, and traced his fingers over Charles' knee, appreciating the tiny scars and knots left from some nasty bike crash twenty years ago, would soon be died if he kept talking to this Charles. "Really, I can."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please review. I really think this is quite weird, and I'm not sure if I'm pulling it off.

**Author's Note:**

> Tick of the Clock - Chromantics
> 
> 3 Love ya, and thanks for reading.


End file.
